Incidents at midnight
by loveinchaos
Summary: Exploring the messy Subconscious attractions of being super teens. These are chapters that i deleted from my story: Humanity.
1. Chapter 1

It was midnight. Cyborg left to sleep in his room. Raven was reading a meditation book as Beast Boy watched a silent slapstick movie.

Robin had finally exhausted the possible strategic exercises he could torture himself with unto the point that his pacing in circles had hypnotized the ever attentive Starfire into a trance of almost asleep.

She had fought to keep her eyes open even as he insisted she go to sleep before him. She had denied being tired. Raven had whispered into his ear before he could argue. He stopped pacing and set on the kitchen stool beside her and talked to her quietly and soothingly until like a child she started nodding off. Catching up with the plot, Beast boy had turned off the tv and transformed into a cat that purred rhythmically into Starfire's ear. Finally she slept on the island's smooth marble surface and Robin gently lifted into his arms to carry her to bed.

And then there were two.

She continued her study of her book. He wanted to turn the tv back on but began to watch her, instead. He had started doing this a lot lately, the watching her. He thought about the long hard day they had had. Then felt guilty about his inward complaining, given how hard every day of her life was, always.

He couldn't imagine having to be aware of every emotional vacillation that zipped though his mind. He could not control his emotions but only be swept along with them. When they had first met he had respected , not her powers, but her attitude in coping with them. How did she do it? To strangers and citizens she appeared an unapproachable Goth. When she wanted to she could be completely invisible and so private that she seemed a world away but somehow always came back to earth for them, for their almost family.

She turned a page in her book.

But now it was the really little things he'd overlooked when he was a few younger that caught his eye. He remembered them now. Her scent was heavy in the air around the couch and He inhaled deeply through his nose and closed his eyes as he relaxed. It was dusty, and metallic like the corners of the tower, spicy like the candles of her rooms that made his nose twitch, like the damp shadows she hid in, and the volcanic embers of her birth world; all of which she tried to hide under the waxy smell of soap. He loved her scent. He flicked his tongue beyond the cage of his fangs to taste it a bit more. It was not so much a real flavor like any flavored tofu he he'd tried before, but a kind of promise.

She turned a page in her book.

But it wasn't just her scent he liked. Some were just small physical things. Like how her skin was as pale as the moon but much clearer and brought out the shadow of perfectly shaped lips and the violet that was her eyes. Like how those eyes could contort in darkness and shine with light while she kept the rest of her being stone still. The way she could walk while somehow gliding above the floor.

Some were fleeting almost invisible things but they told eons about who she was. How when she felt the hurt in someone else but rather than ignore the emotion she would close her eyes and let herself feel it, searching for its cause and the cure that would make them feel better. And when she acted on her impulse to help people there was no hesitation, just instant compassion. How her lips moved to shape words and by some sad miracle never made a shape with even a shadow of a smile.

She turned a page in her book.

He'd noticed things like that about her and caught himself thinking about her and every little move. It was as if he planned to memorize her. a part of him constantly accused himself of being obsessed. Dude, not cool, don't become a total stalker. But then he would calm down and be reminded by his brain that this was probably just puberty. His feelings were probably just a mix of misdirected emotions. Well, he did feel SOMETHING for her but not THAT way. …He guessed. But he knew the (maybe not real) feelings weren't mutual. She was seeing someone else and wouldn't say who. Not that it mattered he thought, _it was just a (probably not even real) crush._

She closed her book.

She stood up and he followed her out, down the hall, up the stairs. At the turn where they had to part ways to their separate rooms he stopped. She looked back at him like she forgot he would have to. Well, did I expect him to follow me to my room? She wanted to ask if something was wrong. She could feel an odd feeling of torment seeping from him but it as vague. "Do you need anything?" she saw a flash of pink contrast against the green of his lips and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Like he had TASTED HER. but that was ridiculous, or so she thought until he smiled withfangs that gleamed. "no, nothing more." And padded silently down to his end of the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you need anything?" she saw a flash of pink contrast against the green of his lips and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Like he had TASTED HER, but that was ridiculous, or so she thought until he smiled with fangs that gleamed. "No, nothing more," and padded silently down to his end of the hall.

…

He loved to be straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight. His feet were paws that could make him fly as on wings. He felt his muscles burn and lungs fill with heavy new rain air as he flew faster and bounded higher.

He smelled the rain, the leaves, and the sweat of Fear. Delicious. Not so much a specific scent like any food he'd dare remember but more because it was a promise.

The scent grew stronger and he felt muscles coil mid bound so he would land as silently as his shadow. His eyes focused on nothing but the prey. They were out of breath, sweating, and their heart was beating a mile a minute. He couldn't ask for a better victim, a better promise. He could hear their gasps and squeals of horror as he got closer and closer. At last he leapt and pinned his victim to the ground. He dug his claws into their skin, feeling it pierce and feeling the silent screams of pain that came with it. He howled proudly as his prey lay helpless beneath him. He was sounding parts of his nature that were deeper than he could ever explain when he wasn't here, in the middle of it. He howled for his life and for the other's death, and for his possession of its very life. He howled to savor the feelings of a wild king. Then he claimed the promise and all its glory. He opened his maw wide and went right for the throat.

Beast Boy bolted up out of bed and promptly hit his head against the bedside lamp. He cradled his head in both hands as he looked around. His bedroom was dark and quiet, as it usually was at three in the morning. He was soaked with perspiration. His heart was racing so quickly it hurt and he felt a feverish thrill.

He ran his tongue over his fangs, they hadn't felt the tearing flesh and ached with the need. He sighed and slumped forward, running his fingers through his thick shock of fur. He then rubbed his tired eyes and threw his damp blankets off. And froze, _I don't have fur right now… that was my hair. _

He tore his night shirt and pants off and threw them down the shoot in the corner that would deposit them to the laundry room a floor below. The air on his skin, slick with fever, felt good and he stood there for a moment in only his boxers.

He walked out to the hallway. Clack, clack, clack! He looked onto feet that were doggish in bone structure but had talons like a lions. _**That's so Knarly, dude.**_

As cool as it looked the noise would wake the others. He retracted the paws until he stood in resemblance to human feet. He stepped lightly to the stairs and climbed to the roof.

There he was entranced by the moon for a mere dozen minutes before restlessly returning to his own room. He turned on the radio Cyborg had given him for a long ago Christmas. Songs poured out of it to flood his room with sound. The meaningless promotional jargon, shallow and emotionless lyrics, and repetitive pounding that were American Pop melded into a singular brain numbing lullaby. Sleep mercifully returned to him within the instant he hit the mattress.

A cruel bang on the door woke him. He let out a groan that seemed like a howl of disgrace rather than victory. He rolled off the bed and zombie walked to the door where somebody was yelling and banging.

he pulled open the door and a small fist banged against his chest. Her voice came into focus. "What the hell are you doing playing music at 4 o clock in the MORNING!" her hand started to demonically curl as if to choke him. He caught her wrist with a claw of his own. And Hunter's wild eyes met the Demon's angry ones.

Slowly, the teens returned to themselves. Finding that the one of them was standing in his under wear while the other was hovering an inch above the ground in a flimsy oversized nightshirt. And they were holding hands (in a monstrous sort of way). They leaped away from each other.

A shocked silence ensued, in which both teenagers looked over the unusually exposed skin of the other. Finally, the boy remembered himself first," Like what you see?"

Raven reflexively glared at him. So groggy with sleep she still managed that horrible 'youre dead to me' glare. He sheepishly muttered, "I'll turn it off now." And shut the door. Looking down at himself he realized he had just been talking to his (probably not real) crush in his boxers. As he suffered a brief panic attack Raven staggered back to her room, still sleepily shocked.

Her affectionate side rewound her thoughts to recall the shape of his abs. "who knew?" she squealed dazedly.

"We are crime fighters, extreme physical fitness is totally natural," her Knowledge muttered. "Even if his arms seemed particularly…"

"What is also natural is SLEEP," she murmured as she fell onto her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Unusually early the next morning, Raven capped her pen and looked down at the words on the piece of paper before her, making sure every detail was there.

…

Thousands of faces looked up at her, expectantly. She couldn't usually handle being so focused on but today wasn't about her. It was about him. She took a deep breath.

"I'm more than a little sad at his passing. He was honestly hilarious and brought us so much joy. He had a temper like a Beasts. But he was one of kindest, cuddliest, most compassionate humans I have ever known. I want his memory to live on in all of us. Don't just walk away from today with him on your mind but put his story on your lips. Tell your children and your children's children about the amazing crime fighting adventures. Tell them about the struggle he endured, the self-control that defined him, and that horrible sense of humor that no one could stand."

The crowd laughed and a couple familiar voices hooted.

"All his life, that little grass stain only told one good joke! He was irritated with me and shouted, 'Raven Roth, I'm never speaking to you again!'

Her smile of pure delight was so wide it was almost moronic and crowd smattered with giggles and laughter. "I had never laughed so hard in my life!"

The crowd's laughter echoed across the expansive cemetery grounds.

She waited for the crowd to calm before she continued. "Honestly… I never would have had the courage to come before you today. I would never have learned how to speak in public, much less tell a joke. I never could have made friends with all of you if it weren't for Beast Boy. He constantly drew all of us out of our shells. And for that the whole team loved him. He made us all feel younger, supported, and smarter by comparison." More smiles and laughter mixed with sadder sounds, sniffling, hiccups, and muffled sobbing.

Raven took in the sight and tears welled up in her eyes. She took a raged breath. She choked a little on her final words, "No one will ever bring joy to this world the way Garfield did. And so… please... Please tell your children and friends… and family and neighbors all about him. I want his real name: Garfield… to go down in history. And the amazing Beast Boy deserves to go down a legend."

…

"Awwww, that's so sweet." Said his tofu- scented breath from behind her ear. Without looking behind her Raven elbowed him hard; she was rewarded with solid sounding "oof!"

"It's rude to read over someone's shoulder you know."

"Yeah, yeah. So what was that you were writing? I saw my name. Was it a poem? A letter? A Special Message for moia?" pestered Beast boy. His French pronunciation was terrible and Raven decided to kill his mood, she just stated bluntly. "No. I'm writing my speech for your funeral."

Beast Boy went pale green, "Now, now, Raven. Violence is never the answer."

Raven smirked evilly, "No, seriously. This is the speech I made at your funeral. I had a dream you died. You were quashed by one of Mother Mae Eye's pies. It was a Wonderful Dream."

Beast boy crossed his arms. Brow furrowing, he grunted, "Nice to know how much you'll miss me, when I die."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't die by pie." She turned back to her journal.

Beast Boy's eyes went huge. "Raven…"

"WHAT." She asked not looking back but voice brimming with irritation.

"You told a joke!"

"That wasn't a joke…"

"Ok, a pun. BUT STILL. Rae, you're gonna rock those jokes at my funeral!"

Raven smiled down at her journal but then whipped her head around with alarmed eyes. "Beast boy…"

Beast boy froze mid enthusiastic bounce and his eyebrows shot up. He looked like a startled 'Huh?'

Raven's eyes narrowed and beads of sweat started to form on Beast boy's forehead. "YOU… are actually Very Fast Reader…"

"Oh… um, well…." He shrank under Raven's suspicion. " I better…", Beast Boy turned into a bee and buzzed off.

Raven watched him buzz out of room. It was a horrible visual pun. Looking around the room to see if she was really alone, she flipped the pages of her journal until she found the dream she'd the night after her and Beast Boy's private … excursion. She crossed her legs in a meditative pose and braced herself. It was time to finally analyze this dream.

…

I see everything from the ceiling, looking down. Beast boy and I are in the den. I'm reading on the couch and he leans over the back. He just looks at me. My dream self squirms and my toes dig into the carpet.

He is as still as a statue. "I love you"

"WHAT!" I recoil from him in surprise. My eyes bug out and my hair must have turned white. But he is still. Now I can see from my own eyes and I see how his eyes are raking over me. They study every part of me, lingering on exposed skin. A shiver trickles down my spine.

Like a shark that smelled my fear and he moves in even closer. "What?" he said innocently. If he weren't holding so still I would have thought we were talking about the weather. That's when I realize why his stillness had been creeping me out. It was predatorial. Like a lion was waiting to eat me.

"So, you're not comfortable enough with me as a Friend that I can't just say that to you?"

Now THAT, I Really didn't see coming. I almost fell off the couch. I cleared my throat nervously, "It depends how you meant it."

In my mind I'm preparing my letdown speech. How were such good friends and it would be horrible to mess that up.

Beast Boy's eyes travel up from my legs to my brain, his eyes narrow to slits. "If I am so deep in the friend zone, why should it matter how I meant it?" And then he smiled that crazy smile. Now in real life, that crazy smile terrifies me. But in the dream, it gave my stomach butterflies. Then the dream began to lose it's authenticity. We were suddenly in my room, on my bed and beast boy was halfway into a lion's form. He leapt at me. That's when I woke up. But I have this strange feeling that right before I woke, my dream self opened her arms to him.

"What does that mean?" Raven muttered. As she concentrated inward, she missed the sound. Joyful buzzing could barely be heard from the ceiling near an air vent. Beast Boy was a surprisingly fast Reader.


End file.
